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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382526">many things along the way</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkonwriting/pseuds/drunkonwriting'>drunkonwriting</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>shinichi weekend 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bleach</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt Kurosaki Ichigo, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Aizen Sousuke, Unresolved Romantic Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:54:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,453</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkonwriting/pseuds/drunkonwriting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“What’s wrong with Ichigo? You said he was fine! He was recovering!”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I thought he was.” Kisuke had worn the foolish shopkeeper mask for so long that it was always unnerving to see him drop it and face the full force of his serious mind. Now, it only increased Shinji’s rising worry; Kisuke wasn’t in the habit of dropping the mask except in some pretty dire circumstances. “But he’s not recovering. He’s dying.”</i>
</p>
<p>prompt: being cut off from his powers is killing ichigo</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hirako Shinji &amp; Kurosaki Ichigo, Hirako Shinji/Kurosaki Ichigo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>shinichi weekend 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681810</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>ShinIchi Weekend 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>many things along the way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written hastily (last minute) for the shinichi weekend. set in a post-aizen canon divergence where the visoreds were not integrated immediately back into soul society. i can't believe I'm writing bleach fic in the year of our lord 2020 but here we are.</p>
<p>day 1: being cut off from his powers is killing ichigo</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Shinji had not been expecting a call from Kisuke. Not so soon, anyway. It had been quietly implied that it would be safer for everyone if the visoreds disappeared in the bloody aftermath of Aizen’s defeat—Shinji had agreed with only the barest amount of bitterness. It would take more than Aizen to change Soul Society’s views on what they were and when everyone was still running high from fighting arrancars, there was too much chance that someone might overlook Shinji’s group’s part in the fighting and they’d all find themselves locked up.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji hadn’t liked it. None of them had, especially when they’d found out what had happened to Ichigo. But Ichigo's father had insisted that being constantly reminded of what he’d lost would only depress Ichigo further. So Shinji had reluctantly closed up their makeshift base, taken his people, and gotten the hell out of Karakura.</p>
<p class="p1">Kisuke wasn’t supposed to contact him until it was safe for them to return. Shinji had thought that it would be more like a year, not a mere three months.</p>
<p class="p1">“Are you feeling lonely or something?” he said into the phone as he picked up the call. “I know Yoruichi’s traveling, but—”</p>
<p class="p1">“There’s something wrong with Ichigo.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji’s stomach dropped. His hand tightened on the phone until it creaked in his grip.</p>
<p class="p1">“<em>What</em>?” he asked.</p>
<p class="p1">“I need you to come back. Not everyone, it’s still… Well, things have yet to calm down back in Soul Society if my sources are correct and if any of the shinigami running around here see you, there’s no guarantee what might happen. But just you should be fine.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Kisuke, what are you talking about?” Shinji’s stomach still hadn’t returned to its proper place. “What’s wrong with Ichigo? You said he was fine! He was recovering!”</p>
<p class="p1">“I thought he was.” Kisuke had worn the foolish shopkeeper mask for so long that it was always unnerving to see him drop it and face the full force of his serious mind. Now, it only increased Shinji’s rising worry; Kisuke wasn’t in the habit of dropping the mask except in some pretty dire circumstances. “But he’s not recovering. He’s dying.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji’s knees wobbled. He stepped back until he found a chair and dropped into it.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m sorry,” he said numbly. “He’s… he’s, <em>what</em>? <em>How</em>?”</p>
<p class="p1">Kisuke breathed out a long sigh. “Come back to Karakura,” he said. “I need your help.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Kisuke—”</p>
<p class="p1">Dial tone. Bastard. Shinji resisted the urge to throw the phone at the wall and carefully closed it. He took several deep, stabilizing breaths.</p>
<p class="p1">Ichigo, dying. How could that even be? Shinji had seen him survive some hugely impossible odds, battle with arrancar and gods, defeat Aizen… It was inconceivable that anything could actually bring down Ichigo. Shinji had only been able to leave him in the first place with the sure knowledge that he was safe.</p>
<p class="p1">He closed his eyes. Karakura was several hours away, even traveling fast. He needed to leave now.</p>
<p class="p1">“Rose!” he called out as he stood.</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">Karakura was quiet and approaching twilight as Shinji landed lightly outside of Kisuke’s little shop. He could feel several different kinds of reiatsu inside—Kisuke, not masking for once, Yoruichi, Isshin, and several smaller flames that Shinji thought were Ichigo’s sisters. What he couldn’t feel was Ichigo. Which was worrying in itself. He hurried inside.</p>
<p class="p1">“Kisuke, you better have a damn good reason for hanging up on—” He nearly ran face-first into Kisuke. Shinji paused.</p>
<p class="p1">Kisuke was not exactly a well-kept man, but he kept himself tidy and he was very committed to his little act’s props—the hat and the shoes and the haori. Yet, they were all were missing now—Kisuke was only in shirt-sleeves, rolled back along his forearms. His rough-shaven face was worn and his eyes were grave when they met Shinji’s.</p>
<p class="p1">“Quickly,” he said.</p>
<p class="p1">“What is going <em>on</em>?” Shinji asked.</p>
<p class="p1">Kisuke just pulled him into the main floor of the shop. There was usually a chabudai there and several stacks of books, but they’d been cleared away to allow for a futon. There were several people gathered around it, murmuring in low voices, and it took Shinji several seconds to recognize the lax face and bright hair of the person bundled into it. He lurched forward, but Kisuke held him back.</p>
<p class="p1">“What—”</p>
<p class="p1">“He collapsed yesterday,” Kisuke said. He glanced over his shoulder at a stony-faced Isshin and his face tightened. “He’d been showing signs before, but since he’s been…” Kisuke ran a hand over his face, looking tired. “He hasn’t been handling the loss of his powers well. We all thought the signs we were seeing were just the effects of that, not—”</p>
<p class="p1">“What <em>happened</em>?” Shinji asked. He couldn’t look away from Ichigo’s sleeping face. “Signs of what?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Ichi-nii hasn’t been eating!” One of the little girls gathered around the futon sounded gutted by that. “And I heard him throwing up in the bathroom last week!”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yuzu, don’t just say things to a weirdo!” the other girl hissed. She gave Shinji a deeply paranoid look. “Who is he again, Urahara-san?”</p>
<p class="p1">“A friend,” Kisuke said. “Of mine and of Ichigo’s. He might be able to reach the part of his mind that I can’t, thanks to his… status.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Status?” Shinji’s head was spinning. “One of you, explain what’s going on. Why did Ichigo collapse?”</p>
<p class="p1">“We don’t have time for this,” Isshin said in a low, dark voice.</p>
<p class="p1">“We don’t have time for it because <em>you</em> insisted he was fine,” Kisuke snapped. Shinji blinked at him, taken aback. He’d almost never heard Kisuke take that kind of tone with anyone, let alone someone he considered an ally and a friend. Isshin looked almost as surprised.</p>
<p class="p1">“Kisuke—”</p>
<p class="p1">“I left him in your hands, Isshin,” Kisuke said, still strained. His mouth was tight, eyes hard. “I trusted you to take care of him because I thought he’d rather it be his father than a shopkeeper he’s known for less than a year. But you—” He shook his head. “You lost your right to a say when you didn’t think it was worrying how thin he was getting or how little he was sleeping. Or when he was <em>coughing up blood</em>.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I didn’t know about the blood until today,” Isshin said.</p>
<p class="p1">Kisuke made a strangled noise and turned away from Isshin entirely, focusing on Shinji.</p>
<p class="p1">“He’s been like this since Aizen,” he said. “Losing his powers. I don’t know <em>why</em>. If he was going to die from losing them, it should have happened immediately in the aftermath. Maybe it has something to do with the final Getsuya Tenshou form…” Kisuke was beginning to wander. Shinji sighed.</p>
<p class="p1">“Just the relevant bits, if you please,” he said.</p>
<p class="p1">Kisuke focused. “Losing his powers seems to have hit Kurosaki-kun’s body like… being subjected to a slow-acting poison. Over the past few months, he’s been getting steadily weaker and his body systems appear to have begun shutting down. He hasn’t been eating or sleeping. Yesterday, this all came to a climax when he collapsed outside of his school. When they brought him to me, I did a preliminary check and thought it was just exhaustion. It was only when I checked his reiatsu levels that I realized what was happening.”</p>
<p class="p1">“His reiatsu?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Even without his powers, he still had high reserves for a human,” Kisuke said. “But right now they’re fluctuating like mad. You don’t normally see that kind of stress on them outside of battles to the death. And his reserves are decreasing. Dramatically.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji processed that. “What happens if they run out?”</p>
<p class="p1">Kisuke’s grim look said nothing good. “I tried reaching into his soulscape,” he said. “But it’s…” He shook his head. “Wherever he’s retreated to, I can’t find him. I don’t have the necessary skills to go that deeply into someone’s mind and I’m not familiar enough with Kurosaki-kun’s to attempt it without risking losing myself and him. The only one who might have a chance is—”</p>
<p class="p1">“—me,” Shinji finished. “I spent some time in the kid’s head when we were teaching him how to use his hollow and I’m more experienced with traveling deeply into an unfamiliar soulscape. Have I got it?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I still think this is a bad idea,” Isshin piped up, glowering. “I should be the one going. I’m his father.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You already tried and failed,” Kisuke said, sharp enough to cut. “Ichigo trusts him. I don’t know that there’s many people he trusts more. If anyone has a chance…”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji blinked, taken aback. If he wasn’t so good at keeping his feelings under wraps, he might have flushed. Ichigo trusted him that much, huh? He’d known Ichigo felt <em>something</em> for him—it was impossible not to after that awkward encounter during their last weeks together—but it was heartening to hear that Ichigo still felt a connection to him.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m happy to help,” Shinji said. “But there is a plan to fix this when I find his mind, yeah? Because it’s not going to do any good waking him up if he’s still dying.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m working on a solution,” Kisuke said. “It’s all I’ve been doing since Chad-kun brought him to me. But I can’t do anything until he’s awake, Shinji, and at this rate, he might never wake up.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji looked down at Ichigo. He looked older than the last time they’d spoken. His hair was longer, a deeper orange. His cheekbones were sharper. It hurt to think of Ichigo wasting away for the last few months, alone and apparently hurting so deeply. Why hadn’t he said anything to anyone?</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji sighed. Because he was Ichigo, of course. A total, self-sacrificial idiot. Well. Shinji wasn’t about to let him die. Not after all the work he’d put into him.</p>
<p class="p1">“What do I need to do?”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">The plan was simple; get in, follow the trail to the deeper levels of Ichigo’s soulscape, and get them both out of there with minimal damage done. Shinji was lucky that he’d spent a lot of time helping the other visoreds manage their hollows; the idea of entering a soulscape wasn’t foreign to him anymore and he’d long since lost his instinctual distaste for it. More than that, he was already familiar with the steps needed to recover a lost mind, especially one that was burdened (or had been burdened) with a hollow.</p>
<p class="p1">So as Shinji closed his eyes and prepared to fall into the meditation that would allow him to connect to Ichigo’s mind, he was pretty confident he could find him. It was more of a question of what they would do when he <em>did</em>.</p>
<p class="p1">That confidence all disappeared when he got his first glimpse of Ichigo’s mind. Shinji had seen his fair share of soulscapes, some tidier and more beautiful than others, but the space he landed in was a howling wasteland that reminded him of Hueco Mundo. Here and there were stark pillars that might have once been buildings, but they had been buried by the sand that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The wind howled along the plain, so strong that it was almost impossible to keep his feet.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji concentrated. He thought of what he thought was essentially <em>Ichigo</em>—warm, bright, forceful as a blow to the head, a surprisingly tender touch. He focused on Ichigo until he could practically <em>feel</em> him there; the warmth of his shoulder against Shinji’s, the low, ironic sound of his voice, the smell of his shampoo. Shinji breathed in deep.</p>
<p class="p1">When he opened his eyes, he could see a bright, thin line of orange disappearing into the wastelands around him. He followed it, bracing his shoulders against a wind that seemed to grow stronger and colder with every step he took. He didn’t know how long he’d been following it—time meant nothing in here—when something leaped at him from behind.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji took the hit and rolled back to his feet. He didn’t have Sakanade with him, but he was hardly vulnerable. He wasn’t sure what he expected as he turned to face his attacker, but it wasn’t a slim teenager in a ragged coat, dark-haired and feral, snarling at him.</p>
<p class="p1">“What—”</p>
<p class="p1">“Go away,” the kid said.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji frowned. This wasn’t Ichigo, but something about his face was familiar. Like he was looking at a picture of Ichigo that was slightly off. The kid’s coat was even more familiar—wasn’t that Ichigo’s coat during his bankai? More importantly, why was there a stranger in here at all? With the loss of his powers, Ichigo’s mind should be his own again.</p>
<p class="p1">“Who are you?” Shinji asked. “Where’s Ichigo?”</p>
<p class="p1">The kid bared his teeth. “Go <em>away</em>.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I can’t,” Shinji said. “I have to find him.”</p>
<p class="p1">The kid’s laugh was cruel, mocking. “Find him to do <em>what</em>, shinigami?” he asked. “Got another war he has to fight? Another god for him to defeat? Hasn’t your kind done <em>enough</em> to him?”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji’s heart squeezed. “I didn’t want him to be a part of any of that,” he said roughly. “But he… We needed him.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, you don’t need him now. He’s useless, right? That’s why you all left him behind?”</p>
<p class="p1">“We didn’t <em>leave</em> him—Who are you? How do you know all of this?”</p>
<p class="p1">“You can’t help him,” the kid said and there was something genuinely anguished in the harsh slant of his mouth and the deepness of his eyes. “He’s been disappearing for months. I’ve held it off for as long as I could, but he can’t hear me anymore.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Hear you?” Shinji took in the familiar-unfamiliar features, the dark coat. Recognition dawned. “You’re—you’re his <em>sword</em>. Zangetsu?”</p>
<p class="p1">The kid laughed, bitter. “Not just that, shinigami.”</p>
<p class="p1">He reached into his coat and pulled out a horned mask, sliding it into place over his ear. Shinji blinked in surprise, mouth falling open. That should be impossible, he thought numbly. But, of course, Ichigo regularly did the impossible.</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re his hollow, too?” he asked. “But <em>how</em>—”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s a long story,” Zangetsu said. “Ask your buddy Urahara. But the point is, you can’t help the King now.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But you’re—you’re <em>not gone</em>.” Shinji shook his head, trying to understand. “We all thought—”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m not really <em>here</em>,” Zangetsu said. “Barely anything of me survived; an echo of an echo. Enough to cling to the King’s mind, but not enough to <em>do</em> anything when he started—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Didn’t you hear me before? <em>Leave</em>.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No! I came here to help Ichigo, I’m not leaving. How can you ask me to do that? If I leave, he’s going to die.”</p>
<p class="p1">“And what makes you think staying will change that?” Zangetsu shook his head. “I told you, shinigami. It’s <em>too late</em>.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji’s mouth firmed. He wasn’t going to just <em>accept</em> that. He turned back to the thin orange line and began following it at a run. He heard Zangetsu curse behind him and then the sound of his footsteps. They ran across the desert wasteland for what felt like hours or maybe minutes. Time meant nothing. The stark towers eventually disappeared, leaving only sand behind.</p>
<p class="p1">Then, in the distance, Shinji saw a building. It was low, squat and made entirely of what looked like green wood until Shinji got close enough to realize they were actually leaves. Bright green leaves, almost acidic. They folded over each other to create a small hut. The line of orange led directly inside.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji paused, putting a hand on the building. It seemed to hum at his touch. He withdrew his hand and glanced over his shoulder. Zangetsu stared back at him, arms crossed over his chest and eyes icy.</p>
<p class="p1">“Go on,” he snapped. “See for yourself how hopeless it is.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji stepped through the leaves. Inside, it was unnaturally bright and warm. On a long, low bed was Ichigo.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji let out a long breath. He bent over Ichigo’s body and checked him over, frowning. He was breathing but he was just as comatose as he was in the land of the living. His skin was paler, his cheekbones sharper. In one of the hands bent over his chest, his fingers were curled around the hilt of a broken sword. In his other hand were the bone remnants of a mask.</p>
<p class="p1">“He won’t wake up.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji jumped. Behind him, Zangetsu didn’t even seem to register Shinji’s surprise. All of his hungry focus was on Ichigo.</p>
<p class="p1">“Why?”</p>
<p class="p1">Zangetsu shook his head. “If he was just a normal human, losing his powers wouldn’t have done this to him,” he said. “But the King’s <em>not</em> normal. He was born from a shinigami, born touched by a hollow. His powers aren’t just something he has, they <em>are</em> him. Ripping them out… you might as well have ripped out his blood vessels. His kidneys or liver.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But you’re <em>here</em>. If you survived, then why is he—”</p>
<p class="p1">“I <em>told</em> you. I’m an echo. He can’t hear me, can’t sense me. I’m a bandaid on a bullet wound, shinigami. I’m the reason he’s lasted this long, but the injury is too catastrophic—I can’t hold it off like this.”</p>
<p class="p1">They both looked down at Ichigo. Shinji felt quite sick. He’d been sure that he would find Ichigo and they would go back to the land of the living together, where Kisuke would have come up with a daring fix that would set everything right. He wasn’t supposed to find out that it was actually hopeless. He wasn’t supposed to just be there to watch Ichigo <em>die</em>.</p>
<p class="p1">His heart shuddered. No. Shinji refused to let it happen. Ichigo was <em>not</em> allowed to die.</p>
<p class="p1">“Come here,” he said and he took Zangetsu’s hand.</p>
<p class="p1">Zangetsu’s skin didn’t feel like skin. It felt like how Shinji might have imagined touching the moon must feel—icy and smooth, utterly alien. Zangetsu balked at his touch, but Shinji held tight, forcing Zangetsu’s open palm onto Ichigo’s chest, over his heart.</p>
<p class="p1">“What are you <em>doing</em>?” Zangetsu hissed.</p>
<p class="p1">“Experimenting,” Shinji said. “You might be fine sitting back and letting Ichigo die, but I’m not. Do you know how much effort I put into training him? He’s not allowed to die.”</p>
<p class="p1">Zangetsu’s fingers curled into Ichigo’s shirt. They were tipped with tiny claws. Shinji kept a hand over Zangetsu’s, holding him in place, thinking hard. If the problem was that Zangetsu was too weak to make a real connection with Ichigo, too weak to bolster him as his system was ripped apart, then…</p>
<p class="p1">“Is that the only reason?”</p>
<p class="p1">“What?”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji looked but Zangetsu was still staring down at Ichigo.</p>
<p class="p1">“The only reason you want to save him,” Zangetsu clarified without looking up. “You trained him a lot, don’t want your investment to go to waste. That’s it?”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji could feel a flush trying to make its way up the back of his neck. He forced it down. He was too old for blushing.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in his lightest voice.</p>
<p class="p1">Zangetsu snorted and slid a careful look at Shinji. “Sure you don’t,” he said dryly. “Sure you just forgot that pass he made at you.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji forcefully put the memory of Ichigo’s clumsy mouth and flushed cheeks to the back of his mind. It wasn’t relevant now.</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, it <em>was</em> flattering,” he said, still light and airy. “But unfortunately, our dear Ichigo, charming as he is, just isn’t my type.”</p>
<p class="p1">Zangetsu’s hand flexed. “Oh?” he asked, voice a little dangerous. “Then why <em>are</em> you here, shinigami?”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji poked Zangetsu hard in the forehead, ignoring his wide-eyed outrage. “Because he’s still my protege, of course,” he said. “I never let a little thing like ill-timed kissing get in the way of saving someone’s life. Now, <em>hush</em>. Let me think.”</p>
<p class="p1">Zangetsu did, though Shinji could feel his stare on the side of his face. Shinji ignored it, turning his mind to the problem at hand. It didn’t have to be a full fix, Shinji decided. He just needed Ichigo to be stable enough to hold out until the solution Kisuke came up with could heal him fully. He knew that Kisuke would come up with <em>something</em>—he was even more invested in Ichigo’s continued survival than Shinji was, and he was brilliant, besides. But Shinji had to do something here and now to make sure that Ichigo would survive to get that treatment. If he left and asked for Kisuke’s input, he had no guarantee he’d be able to find Ichigo again if he re-entered his mind or how long Ichigo had until he deteriorated entirely.</p>
<p class="p1">It all came down to power. What Zangetsu needed was a boost—with a little more power, he might be able to keep Ichigo together for just a little bit longer. But how to give it to him?</p>
<p class="p1">“He’s thought about you a lot, you know.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji flinched. He hadn’t met many zanpakuto souls, but he would have never guessed they’d be so chatty. Especially not one merged with a hollow.</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh?” he asked. “How sweet.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t think he’s ever been interested in anyone before. Not like that.” Zangetsu’s voice was low, dark. Protective. How strange. “You broke his heart, shinigami.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji’s stomach clenched. He let himself think back to that night just briefly, a moment’s weakness. They were training late. Ichigo had asked for a break and they’d sat sharing some water, talking idly. Shinji had been telling a story about a time before they were visoreds, some slice of life of his time in the fifth division when Ichigo had leaned into him and pressed his lips firmly to Shinji’s. Shinji had been too stunned to react at first and Ichigo had pulled back without pressing the issue, red-faced but unashamed.</p>
<p class="p1">“I just wanted to try it, before I have to go,” he’d said.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji still didn’t know what had come over him. He’d lunged for Ichigo, claiming his mouth in a messy, thorough kiss that was utterly unlike the dry press of lips that Ichigo had tried on him. Ichigo had gasped into him, warm and willing, moaning as Shinji tangled their tongues and bit on his lip.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji had regained his sense and pulled back, of course, shame coursing through him. Ichigo had been flushed, dazed, his eyes dilated almost entirely black. Shinji had allowed himself one moment to look before he had cleared his throat and gently told Ichigo they should get back to training. Ichigo had been surprisingly tactful about it—he’d never brought it up again and never tried to kiss Shinji. He’d left for Hueco Mundo not long after.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji shivered. Sometimes he still saw Ichigo’s flushed face in his dreams, felt the heat of his mouth. It had been one perfect moment, those kisses. But Shinji wasn’t allowed to have it. Ichigo was still becoming a person, still a human in the land of the living. He should be dating and falling in love with other humans, people his own age. Shinji was not anywhere near appropriate for him.</p>
<p class="p1">“If I did, I’m sorry to hear it,” he said. “But he’s young. He’ll recover.”</p>
<p class="p1">Zangetsu snorted. “Or he won’t,” he said, casting another look at Ichigo’s comatose body.</p>
<p class="p1">“About that,” Shinji said. “I have an idea.”</p>
<p class="p1">Zangetsu’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like the sound of that,” he said.</p>
<p class="p1">“You really <em>are</em> Ichigo’s partner, aren’t you?” Shinji asked, a little delighted. “It’ll be fine. Just keep holding on to Ichigo.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But what are you going to—”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji ignored him. He leaned down next to Ichigo’s face. He took a moment to process those dear features—the bright hair and sharp nose, surprisingly long eyelashes. Ichigo looked different when he wasn’t scowling, much younger. Shinji’s stomach shivered. He hoped, with everything in him, that this would work. He couldn’t bear it if it didn’t.</p>
<p class="p1">He pressed his lips to Ichigo’s forehead in a firm, dry kiss. As their skin touched, he pushed as much of his own power into Ichigo’s body as he could.</p>
<p class="p1">He heard Zangetsu gasp. Ichigo’s body arched upward and Shinji felt something drain from him so quickly and sharply that he almost passed out. When he regained himself, Ichigo’s eyes were fluttering open and Zangetsu was staring at him in wide-eyed shock, still clutching Ichigo’s shirt like a lifeline. He looked more solid than he had before.</p>
<p class="p1">“You—”</p>
<p class="p1">Whatever Zangetsu wanted to say was lost as Shinji was pulled forcefully from Ichigo’s soulscape. He fell to the ground in Kisuke’s living room, gasping. His muscles felt like they had been stretched to the breaking point and his heart was hammering against his ribcage. His entire body was coated with sweat.</p>
<p class="p1">“—Hirako!”</p>
<p class="p1">He looked up into Kisuke’s concerned face. “Did it work?” he managed to get out between gasps.</p>
<p class="p1">“He’s stable,” Kisuke said.</p>
<p class="p1">“Not just that,” Isshin said, sounding much less gruff than he had before. “He’s waking up.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Ichi-nii!”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji closed his eyes as he heard a confused murmur. He only let himself pass out once he heard Ichigo ask, full of confusion, “What’s going on?”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">Shinji woke up in Kisuke’s guest bedroom. Kisuke sat at his bedside, reading a book. When he noticed Shinji was awake, he tucked it away. He’d put on his hat again at some point, though he was still missing his jacket.</p>
<p class="p1">“What you did was incredibly stupid,” he said, cheerful.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji smiled at him. “Of course,” he said. “But it worked, didn’t it?”</p>
<p class="p1">“If it hadn’t, you’d both be dead,” Kisuke said. “You’re lucky Kurosaki-kun’s soul is a bit unusual. It’s more flexible than most souls--it can handle foreign power more easily.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I thought so,” Shinji said. “That’s why Kuchiki could give him her powers so easily.”</p>
<p class="p1">Kisuke hummed. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. There was a distance in his voice that meant he was considering something deeply. “If Kuroski-kun <em>can</em> handle an influx of other people’s powers so easily… and if giving him <em>yours</em> improved his health so dramatically…”</p>
<p class="p1">Kisuke was silent for a long moment. Shinji sighed. “Kisuke,” he said.</p>
<p class="p1">“Ah.” Kisuke came back to himself. “Tell me everything.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Ichigo can’t?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Kurosaki-kun doesn’t remember anything from when he passed out.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji sighed and began describing his time in Ichigo’s mind. Kisuke let him talk without interruptions, though he did inhale sharply when Shinji spoke about meeting Zangetsu. As he began describing the place he’d found Ichigo in, the door creaked open to admit the man of the hour himself.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji looked over Ichigo closely, but he did look better than he had before; less peaky and sharp around the edges. He still moved gingerly, like it hurt him, but his eyes were clear and focused. Shinji relaxed properly for the first time since he’d gotten Kisuke’s call. For right now, at least, Ichigo was all right.</p>
<p class="p1">“Ichigo,” he said. “Long time no see, huh?”</p>
<p class="p1">Ichigo’s smile was an unexpected wonder—warm and tender, almost unbearably intimate.</p>
<p class="p1">“Shinji,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”</p>
<p class="p1">They looked at each other. Shinji’s heart began to speed up in his chest and his entire body was warming under Ichigo’s direct gaze. He forced himself to look away and focus on Kisuke, who was watching them like a scientist with a new experiment.</p>
<p class="p1">“Like I said, Ichigo was comatose,” Shinji continued. He was intensely aware of Ichigo moving across the room to take a seat in the chair next to Kisuke’s, of his eyes on Shinji’s face. “I had the idea that if I gave him some of my own power, Zangetsu might be strong enough to stabilize him—”</p>
<p class="p1">“<em>That’s</em> what you did?” Ichigo asked.</p>
<p class="p1">“It was the only thing I could think of,” Shinji admitted. “Zangetsu said he was too weak to keep helping you.”</p>
<p class="p1">He snuck a quick look and caught the strange expression on Ichigo’s face.</p>
<p class="p1">“He was really there?” he asked, something soft and vulnerable lurking under the words. “You really saw him?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” Shinji said. “You still can’t hear him?”</p>
<p class="p1">Ichigo shook his head, looking lost. Kisuke’s mouth was tight and grim. Shinji knew him well enough to recognize his guilt. Before he could say anything, Kisuke stood up and placed a hand on Ichigo’s shoulder. Ichigo looked up at him with widening eyes.</p>
<p class="p1">“Well,” Kisuke said in his normal, cheerful voice. “I think that won’t last long now.”</p>
<p class="p1">He disappeared out of the door before they could ask him what he meant. Ichigo rolled his eyes and Shinji laughed a little, relaxing.</p>
<p class="p1">“He’s always such a cryptic bastard,” Ichigo complained. He speared a look Shinji’s way. “And <em>you</em>. What were you thinking, disappearing like that?”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s not a good time to be visored,” Shinji said. “Soul society’s still shaken up from Aizen. Kisuke thinks things will be better in a few months—they might even let us come back.”</p>
<p class="p1">Ichigo’s eyebrows rose. “You’d want that?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Of course.” Shinji sighed. “That’s always been the goal.”</p>
<p class="p1">They stared at each other again. Ichigo really had grown up. His jaw was much sharper and his new, longer hair suited him. He’d pulled it back in a low, stubby ponytail at the base of his neck.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m really glad to see you,” Ichigo said finally. “Even if it’s because of—all this.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji smiled at him. “Likewise.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Are you going to be okay, though?” Ichigo eyed Shinji’s prone from critically, brow furrowing. “Doing… whatever you did didn’t hurt you permanently, did it?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Nah.” Shinji flapped a hand, trying to get rid of the worried look on Ichigo’s face. “Just weakened me a bit for the moment, that’s all. I’ll be up and running around in no time.”</p>
<p class="p1">Ichigo relaxed a little. “Well. Thank you, then. Urahara says you saved my life.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji forced himself to laugh lightly at that instead of flush. “Seems to be a habit for me. I’d like it better if you weren’t always dying, you know.”</p>
<p class="p1">Ichigo bent his head. “Yeah.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji considered him. “You knew something bad was happening,” he said. “You were coughing up blood. Not eating, not sleeping. Why didn’t you say anything? Ask anyone for help?”</p>
<p class="p1">Ichigo didn’t answer for a long time. When he finally spoke again, he sounded very distant.</p>
<p class="p1">“I didn’t really see the point, I guess.”</p>
<p class="p1">“The <em>point</em>?” Shinji blinked, incredulous. “Someone could’ve <em>helped</em>, for starters!”</p>
<p class="p1">“I didn’t know that,” Ichigo said. “And after… everything, everyone was just—gone. I haven’t seen anyon from Soul Society for months. Even Urahara-san…” Ichigo sounded a little lost, but he shook himself, the light coming back into his eyes as his mouth thinned into a stubborn line. “I figured I could handle it on my own. I’ve always done it before.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji shook his head. They’d done him a disservice, leaving him alone, he thought. Ichigo thought they’d <em>abandoned</em> him—had thought it so much that he’d almost let himself die because he didn’t think there was anyone around he could trouble to help him. Shinji’s hands, safely hidden under the blankets on the bed, curled into fists. He was going to have some words with Isshin once he felt well enough to stand. He had an idea of whose fault this might be.</p>
<p class="p1">“Well,” he said, forcing his voice to stay light even though he wanted to yell. “Obviously that didn’t work out the way you planned. So I guess you’ll just have to accept some help from little old me if that’s not too much trouble.”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s not any—Of course it’s not any trouble,” Ichigo said, flustered.</p>
<p class="p1">“Good,” Shinji said firmly. “I’d be very cross if you died. You’ve taken up a lot of my time and effort, you know.”</p>
<p class="p1">Ichigo’s mouth turned down and Shinji remembered what his sword had said. But he didn’t take it back—better for Ichigo to think Shinji utterly indifferent to his romantic hopes. It would be safer for him in the long run and healthier for them both, even if it made Shinji’s silly heart ache.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’d better sleep,” Shinji said. He could feel his eyelids starting to slide closed.</p>
<p class="p1">A strong, warm hand reached under the covers to grip his. Shinji startled, but Ichigo didn’t let go. He settled more firmly into his chair and met Shinji’s eyes square on, without any shame.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he said.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m not a little kid, Ichigo, you don’t need to—”</p>
<p class="p1">“I want to,” Ichigo said, even more firmly. “You did this to yourself to help me. It’s the least I can do.”</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji huffed. “Stubborn idiot,” he said.</p>
<p class="p1">Ichigo’s mouth turned up into the barest smile. “You’ve got it,” he agreed.</p>
<p class="p1">Shinji laughed a little and closed his eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he murmured.</p>
<p class="p1">He felt Ichigo’s fingers squeeze his as he faded off into darkness.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wrote like half of this at 5am so sorry for any mistakes. kudos &amp; comments always appreciated!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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